Dissonance
by megsonfire
Summary: Peeta Mellark hates his brand new, cookie-cutter house on the outskirts of Baton Rouge and that his mother has taken him away from the only life he's ever known. Intrigued by the ivy-covered farmhouse across the street and its inhabitant, a gray-eyed alligator hunter named Katniss, Peeta is swept into a passionate-and deadly-love affair that could could cost him everything. Dark.


**A/N: **This attempt at the Southern Gothic genre is extremely dark. **Trigger Warnings: Major Character Death, Child Abuse, Underage Sex, Mention of Suicide, and Depictions of Severe Mental Illness**. Please read accordingly.

There are some references to the Sookie Stackhouse novels/True Blood, but this story by no means takes place within Sookieverse.

I took a few liberties with the details of alligator hunting and snake bite care. Please forgive me for bending them to fit the narrative.

Thank you to txdora, slagheapwhore, AudrinaC, and whiterabbitspoppills for being the best cheerleaders I could have asked for.

* * *

The residents of Renard Parish had long regarded the Everdeens as a bit peculiar, but the thought was compounded when the Widow refused to sell the run-down farmhouse to the land developers who were determined to bring a slice of suburban life to rural southern Louisiana. Baton Rouge was booming and more and more people wanted away from the bustling city life in favor of the quieter suburbs. But they didn't want to live in the swamp, which was why Seneca Construction had been hired to bulldoze the trees and drain the marshes and pour asphalt into perfect cul-de-sacs before building up row after row of pristine tract houses that all looked exactly the same.

Even with the beige boxes springing up around them like weeds, the Everdeen women refused to give up their land and the ramshackle farmhouse. It was an historical landmark, the Widow said. Survived the Civil War with only minor bullet damage and housed more generations of Everdeens than anyone could remember. But everyone knew the Widow was not quite all right in the head so they paid her little mind. She was barely scraping by anyway; her daughter spent most of her free time in the swamp dragging in squirrels and rabbits and sometimes a gator just so they could eat.

Sooner or later, the price she had been offered for the plot would appear more than generous and the developers were more than prepared to offer the Widow a fair price on one of the new houses.

But the harder they were pushed, the more firmly the Everdeen women stood in their convictions. The only reason they were keeping the house and not being forced out by imminent domain was because technically, the back three acres of the plot fell into a protected nature area.

To Effie Trinket, three acres of _swamp_ were hardly something worth holding onto.

"Sheer stubbornness is all it is," she tutted to herself as she pulled into the driveway of the first house on Capitol Street. She flipped down the SUV's sun visor to touch up her already pristine lipstick and grimaced at the reflection of the house behind her. "That eyesore had better be gone by Christmas."

It couldn't come soon enough for Effie, who firmly believed that ugly things should not be abided by without the sincerest effort to pretty them up a bit. Satisfied with the shade of her lips, she opened her door and stepped onto the smoothly paved driveway.

Effie patted the perfectly coiffed chignon on the back of her head to ensure it was holding its tease—the humidity was already oppressive, even at seven in the morning—and watched as the dark-haired Everdeen girl traipsed across the overgrown lawn, a bow and sheaf of arrows slung carelessly across her right shoulder and a white ten-gallon bucket swinging from her left hand. Effie caught the girl's eye and wiggled three fingers at her.

The girl tilted her chin slightly upward to acknowledge Effie's wave before she shifted the bucket in her hand and headed toward the swamp.

Effie heaved a sigh of relief. Odd as she was, the strangely-named teenager—wasn't it Cat's Tail or some other kind of water-dwelling weed?—was the best gator hunter in the area. And if her arrows always managed to always hit the quarter-sized instant kill zone over a wildly thrashing gator's brain, Effie certainly didn't want to test her aim from across the street.

She glanced down at her watch and snapped to attention. She was already ten minutes behind her to-the-minute schedule and if there was anything Effie hated more than ugly things and gator hunters with peculiar names, it was being late.

* * *

The house smelled like cookie-scented candles and new paint and Peeta already hated every square inch of the pristine prison.

"Oh. Isn't it just wonderful?" The real estate agent, who wore far too much pink and spoke in far too many exclamation points, twirled around the living room. "Surely you love it already." She smiled brightly in Peeta's direction. Even her name was sickening. Effie. It sounded more like something you'd name a dog that you didn't like.

He crossed his arms and shrugged. He actually hated it, but his mother's lips were pressed into a tight line and her hand inched upwards the tiniest bit in warning.

He cleared his throat. "It's a little hard to imagine without furniture."

Effie forced a laugh and his mother glanced sideways at him. He didn't know how else he could have answered the question without feeling bad about lying to the woman's face. He may not have much tolerance for her and her over-excitement, but she was still a lady and ladies deserved respect. Even neglectful mothers and real estate agents who burned awful smelling candles to make houses seem cozier.

"Let's take a look upstairs." Effie giggled, actually _giggled,_ and Peeta couldn't stop the involuntary roll of his eyes even if he'd wanted to. His mother eyed him warily.

"Go ahead. I think I'm gonna check out the back yard. Maybe look around the neighborhood." Effie had told them that they would be the first family on the cul-de-sac if they chose to move in and he wanted to get the lay of the land while he still had the chance.

"Don't go too far." His mother nodded her approval and followed the chattering Effie up the stairs.

Peeta wandered through the archway that separated the living room from the kitchen. His mother was obsessed with the idea of what she called an open floor plan. The last three houses they'd looked at all had the tall ceilings and intricately carved arches rather than doorways. He honestly couldn't tell what difference it made. A house was a house.

But their old house had been old, cozy, and comfortable. That's probably why his mother wanted the exact opposite. He lightly trailed his fingers across the cold marble countertop as he crossed through the kitchen on his way to the backdoor.

He didn't even know he was actively looking for it until suddenly, there it was, settled in an inconspicuous corner; a burning jar candle that was supposed to smell like baking cookies. It was beige, he noticed, just like everything else in the house. The sickeningly sweet scent would probably fool the average teenage boy, but Peeta had spent his life helping out in his father's bakery and he could tell from two sniffs if his brothers had carelessly used margarine instead of real butter.

He bent over the candle, extinguished it with a puff, and sighed. Sadly, this poor excuse of a candle would likely be the closest he came to the actual smell of baking chocolate chip cookies for a while. Baking was his father's pastime and much to his mother's chagrin, Peeta had inherited the passion. Even though his mother had never complained about the comfortable lifestyle his father's business had allowed them for the duration of their marriage, she had expressly forbidden Peeta from partaking in any activities that reminded her of her husband.

_Ex-husband. _Peeta paused with his hand on the knob of the back door. The divorce had been final for almost two weeks and it had been even longer since he'd last seen his father, but the finality of his parent's long overdue divorce had yet to sink in. He didn't understand why they couldn't have just stuck it out until he finished high school like so many other couples did. He was a senior. It was only another year.

Mostly he didn't understand why his father hadn't fought harder for him. But he remembered the look of relief and sadness in his father's blue eyes as he watched them drive away…

He shook his head and jerked his hand away from the doorknob. He felt suddenly stifled, like the all too brown walls of the house were completely closing in on him. He struggled for air and stumbled through the empty living room and out the front door.

It was almost as hot in the house as it was outside, but somehow the heavy air brought relief to him. His shoes made soft shuffling noises on the white concrete and he sat down on the curb when he reached the end of the driveway. He pulled his knees to his chest and rested his head in his hands.

It wasn't enough. Distance from her wasn't enough because he knew eventually he would just have to go back inside and pretend that he still loved his mother. Had he ever really loved her? He absentmindedly rubbed the thin white scar that ran from the flesh of his thumb across his wrist. Maybe once, a long time ago. He didn't think she'd always been like this.

Peeta wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting on the curb when he noticed the girl emerge from the thick woods that sheltered the derelict farmhouse across the street.

She wore denim cut-offs and a gray tank top that was darker around the neck and underarms with sweat. Her limbs were long and supple and tanned. Her once-gray canvas shoes were stained with splotches of something dark. She carried an empty white ten-gallon bucket in her hands and a bow on her back. Her long dark hair was loosely braided and slung effortlessly over her shoulder, but a few tendrils had fallen out and curled around her face. He could tell she was beautiful, even from where he sat on the curb.

He sat up a little straighter and watched her as she deposited her bow on the porch and set about rinsing out the white bucket with water from a green lawn hose. When she was satisfied with the cleanliness of the bucket, she turned the hose to her body and drenched herself. The wet tank top hugged the curves of her body in all the right ways and Peeta's breath caught in his throat when he spied the stark white of a bra strap contrast sharply against her tan skin.

She couldn't have heard him from where she stood, but her head jerked up at the sound and her eyes landed on his. She paused and stood completely still, the hose spilling water at her feet.

He stared back at her. Her eyes, he could see them well-enough now, were large and dark.

The girl cut the water off and reclaimed her bow as she stomped up the porch steps. She opened the peeling wooden door but stopped when the perfectly beige door across the street slammed closed.

Peeta jumped to his feet and tried to clear the look of confusion that knit his eyebrows together.

Effie smiled broadly. "Congratulations, young man."

"What?" He looked desperately between the two of them.

"Your mother has very cleverly decided to become the very first property owner in Panem Addition!" She dangled a pink key ring in front of his mother. "It's all yours!"

He stared open mouthed at his mother, drawn out of his trance only when he heard a door slam across the street.

* * *

He dreamed about the girl with the large gray eyes that night and every night for the next week, until the papers were officially signed and the furniture actually delivered and his small collection of cardboard boxes was unpacked and folded away on the curb awaiting disposition.

It was always the same dream. She'd climb in through the window, her long legs dark under the frayed denim of her shorts.

He'd turn to her, ask her what she thought she was doing. He'd worry that his mother would discover her. But then she'd press a long finger to his lips and push him back onto his bed and climb onto his lap and kiss him long and hot and hard.

It usually ended there. But the first night he slept in his new bed in the new house, he found his dream self on top of her, panting into the crook of her neck as he pounded in and out of her.

She writhed underneath him, her long fingernails digging into his arms and her voice chanting his name over and over. "Peeta..." It was barely more than a whisper.

"Peeta." A little louder as she arched her back.

"Peeta!" She gripped his arms so tightly that he knew she'd leave bruises.

"Peeta. Mellark."

A firm smack in the head sent him careening into the floor. Wide awake, he scrambled for a blanket to cover his obvious arousal from his mother.

"Get up." His mother tossed the heavy down pillow on his lap.

He grimaced as the weight settled uncomfortably onto his erection.

"I have to go into the office today, so I need you to finish unpacking. I'm also leaving you some money on the counter so you can go into town and pick up something for dinner. I expect it to be done by the time I get home tonight."

Peeta blinked a few times, trying to shake himself of the wondrous dream of the girl from across the street.

His mother grew impatient. "Well, get up, boy. I didn't bring you along so you could lie in bed all summer. Get moving!" She narrowed her eyes at him, turned on her heel, and slammed the door behind her.

He relaxed against the edge of the bed. What he wouldn't give to slip back into his dream.

* * *

Unpacking the rest of the living room took far less time than he had planned. His mother had very little personal belongings and most of those she had left with his father. She'd had an unhappy childhood, one with very little parental affection, so her husband had showered her with gifts throughout their marriage. But when it was time to move on, she always said, you had to completely move on. So the few framed pictures Peeta unwrapped that morning were mostly of him and his two older brothers. Mostly his brothers.

He was the only one of the three Mellark sons that favored their father at all. The other two were spitting images of their mother, with straight, vibrant red hair, dark brown eyes, and long lanky limbs. Peeta was stocky, his blond hair curled uncontrollably in the Louisiana heat, and his eyes were crystal blue. He'd always felt a special affinity for and from his father and his mother hated it. Which is exactly why she'd fought so hard for custody of him.

His father had fought admirably, but the Deep South was still embarrassingly set in its ways, and the old judge couldn't stomach the idea of separating a woman from her child, even though the child in question was seventeen and had very strong opinions about with whom he wished to live.

He pleaded with the judge to let him stay with his father. He'd been in the same school on the western side of Baton Rouge since kindergarten. He had wonderful friends, a fantastic wrestling coach who had all but guaranteed him a scholarship to LSU as long as he could win state this year, and a comfortable routine. His mother was wildly unpredictable and she wanted him all to herself. So she bought a house as far away from his father and his former life as possible—in the still developing suburb on the easternmost border of southern Baton Rouge.

Peeta hung the last picture frame on the wall with a sigh. There. It was finished. Hopefully she'd be happy with his careful placement of the gallery frames. He'd done his best to keep some of the order he remembered from the old house, but with enough differentiation that she wouldn't notice the similarities.

His stomach growled uncomfortably and he decided that he might as well head into town and see what the state of the food supply looked like in the backwaters.

Because it was a gift from his father, Peeta hadn't been allowed to bring his bicycle with him, so he walked the mile from Panem Addition to downtown Chamboux. It was just past two in the afternoon and the sun was hot on his skin, but he didn't mind so much. At least he felt something.

* * *

Downtown Chamboux was dotted with a few ramshackle stores, most of which looked like they had seen much better days. Peeta walked past a thrift shop with dirty windows, a second-hand book shop, and a hardware store before he spotted the grocery store at the very edge of town. He hastened his steps and pulled open the door, sighing in relief when a blast of cool air hit him.

He couldn't actually remember being in a real grocery store. His father liked to get ingredients from local merchants when he could, but his mother had quickly put a stop to that when she discovered how much cheaper ingredients were when you bought them wholesale or from the Walmart off I-10. The Pik-n-Quik was dimly lit and smelled like fresh fish and Peeta couldn't suppress a smile at the quaintness of it all as he wandered the aisles, picking up cereal for him, Malt-o-Meal for his mother, and spaghetti sauce for dinner that evening.

His arms loaded down with his take, Peeta started toward the front of the store. He stopped just short of the register when he saw a surly looking man screaming into the telephone.

"Finnick! How the hell are you going to _just quit on me?_"His had the thickest Cajun accent Peeta had ever heard. He had grown up hearing the dialect in some of his classmates, but he was still having a hard time making out exactly what the man said.

"Goddammit, boy! At least give me a day to find somebody to cover your shift! _Quel idiot! _Now I'm stuck here all goddamn day—hello? Finnick! Aww, Christ."

The man turned toward Peeta. "Sorry 'bout that. You ready, boy?"

Peeta nodded cautiously and deposited the groceries onto the counter.

"Sorry you had to hear all that." His breath reeked of whiskey. "My cashier just ran away to join a shrimp boat. Left me high and dry." The man began punching numbers into the keypad and studied Peeta between items. "You new here, kid?"

"Yeah. My mom just bought the first house over in Panem Addition."

"Ohh." The man frowned at him. "So I guess urban expansion has officially made its way to the swamp. Twenty-two seventy-eight."

Peeta handed over the cash and bit his lip nervously. "Were you planning on hiring someone to take that guy's spot? Finnick, was it?"

"Why you asking?"

"I just thought… Maybe I could help you out." Peeta took his change and waited on a response.

The man narrowed his dark eyes at him. "Can you start tomorrow?"

Peeta gasped. "Don't you want to interview me? Do a background check or something?"

The man shrugged. "If I ran checks on everyone, I'd have no employees. You seem like a good kid. And if it doesn't work out, at least I'll have time to find someone else."

He held out his dirty hand. "Haymitch Abernathy. The proprietor of this fine mercantile."

"Peeta Mellark." Peeta shook Haymitch's hand firmly, still a little surprised it had been that easy.

"Finnick usually works nights and weekends for me. Around twenty hours a week or so. Sometimes I send him out on the bayou. I'll pay you minimum wage. And you look like you're in high school, so feel free to bring your books and stuff with you if you want, all right? That all sound okay to you?"

He nodded. It was more than okay. That would get him out of the house when his mother was home. And the money was more than welcome. He wanted to leave as soon as he possibly could after his eighteenth birthday in the spring.

"Great." Haymitch forced a smile at him. "Four to midnight tomorrow. I'll see you."

* * *

Because he had expected it to take so much longer to find a job, he wasn't mentally prepared to have to tell his mother that he was now gainfully employed. She'd let him work in the bakery, of course, because it was a family business. He'd never been paid for his time, other than the allowance his father surreptitiously slipped him every week. He knew his mother wanted to keep as close an eye on him as possible. So he understood why his hands shook as he ladled spaghetti sauce on top of the pasta in her bowl.

"Not too much, boy. You know that tomato sauce gives me heartburn."

"Yes, Mama."

He set the bowl on the table in front of her and took the seat on the other side of the table. They ate in silence for a few moments before he finally cleared his throat.

"Mama, something kind of funny happened when I went down to the Pik-n-Quik this afternoon."

She eyed him over the top of her reading glasses. "How so?"

"Well..." He gently balanced his fork on the edge of the bowl. "The owner offered me a job on the spot. Nights and weekends. Twenty hours a week. And he said I can even study if I want when school starts back up."

She swallowed hard and laid her fork on the table. "You think I can't provide for you? You think that just because your father's always been the money-maker in this family that I can't take care of us as well as he can?" She pushed herself to her feet and glowered at him.

"I just thought—"

"You just thought what? You'd embarrass me in this part of town because you didn't do enough damage to my reputation when we lived on the west side?"

He bowed his head. "I think you're the one who did all the reputation damaging when you went and screwed half the school board so Ban would get taken off the academic ineligibility list."

She closed the distance between them in three quick strides and slapped him across the cheek.

The emerald ring that belonged to his grandmother caught the delicate skin on the corner of his eye and his eyes watered furiously. Blood trickled down his cheek and he stared up at her, waiting to see some kind of remorse cross her features.

Of course, it never came. Instead she tugged on her white blouse and stood up a little straighter. "I know your father always played favorites with you. But I'm still your mother. Don't you ever speak to me like that again, understand? Keep the job if you want. I'd rather have you there than wandering the streets."

He pressed the paper towel he'd been using as a napkin to his eye to stem the flow of blood.

"Yes, Mama."

* * *

He wasn't even twenty minutes into his first shift when the gray-eyed girl from across the street wandered into the store.

He guessed this denim short, tank-top, and over-the-shoulder-braid thing was her typical ensemble, but he wasn't complaining a bit. She was even more beautiful up close. She smelled like sweet sweat and swamp water and he took in the deepest breath he could muster, his lungs filling until they burned with the scent of her. Her tanned shoulders were dotted with freckles. He wanted to memorize every one of them.

She shoved her hands in her back pockets. "Haymitch around?" Her voice was raspy and deep, her thick Louisiana accent just punctuated by the tiniest bit of Cajun influence. It was clear she'd spent time on the bayou. He thought it was lovely. He thought _she_ was lovely.

Peeta nodded stupidly and knocked on the glass window to the cash office behind him. He swallowed thickly.

"Hi. I'm Peeta."

The girl nodded in response. "Hey. Katniss."

Even her name played on his tongue like a piece of poetry. _Katniss._

"I think..." He scrambled to stand up and knocked over the wooden stool in the process. He flushed furiously as he righted it. "I think you live across the street from me."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "So you're the asshole who's responsible for destroying my swamp?"

"Already harassing my new employee, sweetheart?" Haymitch stumbled out of the cash office.

"Oh, no, she wasn't—"

"Shh." Haymitch held up a finger to him and turned back to the girl. "What can I help you with today?"

"I got a good one today—seven feet, at least. Thought you'd wanna take a look."

Haymitch waved her off. "I'll take him 'cause I trust you, but you gotta stop wasting my tags on these tiny gators. I want monsters—something I can really sink my teeth into. You bring me nine- or ten-footers from here on out or just don't even bother showing up."

She scoffed. "That ain't fair."

"No, sugar, what ain't fair is me paying you for dragging these babies in here. We beat the socks off every last hunter in the bayou last year and you're bringing me seven-footers? It's embarrassing."

"I had help last year. There's only so much I can handle by myself."

Haymitch nodded. "You saying you need a partner?"

She shrugged. "I ain't saying nothing. Just that it's harder for me to wrangle the big ones on my own. Maybe if I had a dog or..."

"What about him?" He jerked his thumb over his shoulder toward Peeta. "He looks sturdy. Strong. Why don't you take him out with you tomorrow?"

Katniss widened her gray eyes at Peeta. "You gotta be fucking joking."

"Hey!" Peeta cried out before he could stop himself. "I am strong. I almost had a wrestling scholarship to LSU, would have, too, if my parents hadn't—"

"Wrestling!" Haymitch guffawed. "There you go, girly. He can hold the gators down while you shoot 'em. Sounds like a great plan to me."

"I can handle it." She grabbed Haymitch's arm desperately. "Please. Don't do this to me again."

Haymitch jerked his arm away. "You just remember that Hawthorne left both of us. You might've been the one screwing him, but he fucked us both. You ain't the only one with a vendetta against the bastard. You wanna beat him or not? Because taking this boy with you might be the only change we got at salvaging the season, _chère_."

Katniss glanced at Peeta over her shoulder. "All right. You live across the street from me. Can you meet me in my front yard at seven tomorrow morning?"

He nodded, completely dumbstruck that she had actually agreed to it.

"See you tomorrow."

* * *

He dressed casually the next morning, trying to emulate Katniss's style the best he could because he figured she knew what worked by now.

He crossed the street just before seven and she was already waiting for him on the falling-down porch, tapping her foot impatiently. "'Bout damn time."

He shrugged. "You said seven."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Help me load up the boat. Then I'll show you around. Between our land and Haymitch's we've got a good ten acres to hunt on. Oh." She shoved a piece of paper into his hand. "Stick that in your pocket. You'll need it if we ever get stopped."

Peeta glanced down. It was an alligator hunting helper license issued to Gale Hawthorne. "Who's this?"

"Just somebody I used to know." Her tone implied otherwise, but he let it go. He didn't want to scare her off before he'd even made any progress with her.

"Grab that bucket." She pointed at a ten-gallon bucket teeming with hunks of raw meat.

He gagged as he approached it. "Sick. This is all rotten."

"That's how gators prefer their chicken meat. Come on." She retrieved the other bucket and led him through the dense woods.

After about ten minutes, the ground turned mushy under his feet and then suddenly, after brushing some Spanish moss out of his way, there it was.

"Wow," he gasped.

The bayou stretched out in front of him, low-hanging willow branches skimming the surface of the water.

Katniss paused beside him. "Yeah. I see it every day and I never get tired of looking at it." She tugged lightly on his arm, urging him toward the edge of the water. "Come on. In the boat."

He stalled. He hadn't wanted to bring this up, but the sight of the water stretching out before him for god knows how far made his stomach jump into his throat. "I can't swim!"

She dropped her bucket into the silty earth and laughed. It was high and clear and had Peeta not been absolutely terrified that she was about to slap him, he would have tried desperately to make her do it again and again.

"Seriously? You can't swim? Well, that is just…" She placed her hands on her hips and sighed.

"I'm sorry. I know I should have said something to Haymitch. I just wanted to do this so bad and I…" He bit his lip. "I'm real sorry, Katniss."

"No, it's…" She paused, narrowed her eyes, and brushed a blonde curl off his sweaty forehead. "Hey, what happened to your eye?"

Peeta jerked his head from her touch. "It's, uh… It's nothing. I hit it on the cabinet or something. Really. It's fine."

And he thought it was. It was hardly the worst injury his mother had inflicted on him in his life. The cut had scabbed quickly and it had only yellowed and bruised around the very edges of the scrape.

He watched her face as she studied him. Something in the set of her jaw softened suddenly and she heaved a deep sigh.

"Okay. I'll teach you to swim. Surely you can learn in a day."

"Really?" His heart raced and he bent to untie his shoes. "Thanks. It really means a lot."

"Whoa." She held out her hands. "We can't swim here. And we still have to set traps. Gators feed at night. So we set this chicken out for them today, it festers in the sun and gets real good and smelly, and then tonight they swallow it down with my hooks into their guts. Tomorrow we find them and haul them in. Get in the boat. I'll teach you how to drive first."

Peeta nodded and although he wasn't sure of it, he thought he saw a smile play at the corners of her mouth when he stumbled as she gunned the engine and took off through the murky water.

* * *

He assumed it was because she'd spent her life on the bayou, but Peeta was still amazed at the way she navigated the boat through the tall trees and heavy curtains of Spanish moss. They approached an open stretch of marshland and Katniss steered the boat over to the shoreline.

She pointed. "See that rope?"

He nodded. It was more of a cable, really; a thick black string of twisted metal fibers that was pulled tight from the tree to which it had been attached.

Katniss grinned at him. "You ready for your first lesson?"

"I guess I better be."

She leaned so far over the side of the boat that Peeta was afraid she would topple into the murky water, but she sank back onto her heels after her fingertips snagged the bait line. She motioned for him to join her at the edge of the boat.

"Take the line."

He obliged.

She retrieved her bow from the floor of the boat and nocked an arrow before raising the bow and setting her stance.

"Okay." She said quietly. "Now _slowly _start to pull up on the line. It's gonna be heavy. There's a gator on the end of that. He's gonna thrash around but don't worry about that. I can get 'em."

Peeta's eyes widened at her. "I don't think I can—"

"Shh!" She narrowed her eyes at him. "You _can_. Trust me."

He stared into her deep gray eyes and gathered all the courage he had. Then he slowly began to raise the line.

She hadn't lied. It was heavy and no sooner had the alligator's white underbelly become visible through the cloudy water, the reptile began to thrash and roll, desperately trying to escape the hook.

Katniss leapt into action, aiming her bow at the alligator's head.

He heaved the gator toward them, trying desperately to get it to roll over onto its belly so she would have a clear shot. The waves from the lizard's body rocked the boat violently and Peeta stumbled as it gave a particularly frightening lurch.

"Katniss!" He screamed her name because it was the only thing he could think to do. "Katniss, I don't know how much longer—"

Thwack!

Her arrow sank into the green flesh on the alligator's head and the beast went slack in the water.

He heaved, trying to catch his breath.

Katniss wiped the swamp water and sweat from her face and tossed her bow back onto the floor of the boat.

"Help me haul this bastard in here."

Together they rolled the animal over the side of the boat. The arrow that had sunk so easily into the gator's brain made a sickening squish as she withdrew it and rinsed it off in the dirty swamp water.

Katniss beckoned him closer and as he bent over the animal, she lowered a finger into the bloody hole. She withdrew it slowly and painted three lines across his forehead and both his cheeks.

He grimaced as she smeared the thick blood over his skin, but he couldn't find it in himself to tell her to stop. Her fingers lit a trail of fire over his skin as she brushed on the lines and when she finished, she stepped back and admired him, much like the way an artist would admire his finally finished portrait.

She leaned her face close to his and pressed their cheeks together, transferring some of the blood from his cheek to hers.

Her voice was low when she muttered, "Welcome to the bayou, City Boy."

* * *

Peeta rinsed the alligator blood from his face as Katniss removed the bait line from the tree and selected a particularly nasty looking three-pronged hook on another cable.

"Haymitch'll cut the hook out when he butchers it," she answered, in response to the question written on his face.

She motioned for him to bring the bucket of chicken over.

When he placed the bucket beside her, she grabbed a handful of the putrid meat and speared it through the hook before stringing the new cable on the tree.

Peeta watched her carefully and was surprised to see that she left a few feet of space between the dangling hook and the surface of the water.

"Why leave the space?"

"'Cause we want the gator to get the meat, not all the other fishies. And this way, he has to really chomp down on it, which means he chomps on my hook, which means I've got him."

She adjusted the slack of the cable and, once she was satisfied with the snare, she climbed back into the boat and steered them back into the open water.

Unfortunately, the rest of Katniss's bait lines turned up empty. She switched the chicken out on the hooks and told him they'd try again tomorrow. Finally, as the sun rose to the center of the sky, she announced it was time for lunch.

She steered the boat into the dock behind her house, retrieved a plastic cooler from the boat, and led him along the shore. After just a few moments, they turned back and headed through the woods onto Haymitch's land.

"There's a pond up here that'll be good for swimming. It ain't too deep."

When they reached the still pond, Katniss plopped down onto the sandy shore and motioned for him to join her. From the cooler, she produced two sandwiches and two bottles of water. She handed one of each to him as he settled in beside her.

"I, uh." She cleared her throat and, had they spent too much time in the sun today or was she actually blushing as she gazed at him. "I hope you like peanut butter."

He nodded enthusiastically. "Oh, yeah!"

They ate quietly for a few minutes before she finally broke the silence.

"You did real well with the gator. I teach you to swim and you might have a shot at being a good hunter." She forced a tight smile at him and he beamed back.

"Thank you. That means a lot coming from you."

This time he knew for sure it was a flush that colored her cheeks.

* * *

He waded into the water next to her, holding tightly to her hand. He had stripped off his shirt, but she refused to bare any more of her skin than was absolutely necessary. She led him into the still pond until the water lapped around the middle of his torso. She had him sink to his knees so that the water lapped around his chin. It was uncomfortable, but her hand on his anchored him and gave him strength.

"We'll just sit here like this for a while. Until you get used to the way the water feels when it takes the weight from your body." She knelt beside him and grasped both of his hands.

For the first time that day, she looked directly into his eyes. It was only a split second, but he caught it nonetheless.

He was determined to make her feel comfortable around him. So he thought he'd try to get to know the girl from across the street.

"Where'd you learn how to hunt like that?"

She sighed. "My dad. He taught me everything he knew before he died. I've been hunting gators since I was seven."

"Wow." He became suddenly aware how close her face was to his. Her nose was dotted with freckles and tiny drops of water clung to the ends of her eyelashes.

He leaned in toward her, angling his jaw ever so slightly to the right. His lips met hers softly and her marveled at the way her chapped, sun-cracked lips felt against his. She breathed heavily against his mouth and he ached to touch his tongue to hers.

She pulled away from him before he had the chance to deepen the kiss. She ducked underwater, escaping to the one place she knew he couldn't follow. She reemerged seconds later, her braid dripping and her face flushed bright red.

"Okay. Take a deep breath and put your face down into the water. That's the next step." She inhaled deeply next to him and watched as he submerged his face. Trying to please her, he didn't bring his head back above water until his lungs burned angrily for oxygen.

She smiled. "That's good."

After an hour, they had progressed onto dog paddling and Peeta actually began to feel at home in the water. His skin was already hot from the sun's rays, but Katniss's hands and the way they grazed feather-light over his slick arms made him burn even hotter. She seemed so comfortable, so at home in the water. He envied her. He lusted for her, especially since he'd had one taste, however brief, of her lips.

It happened so quickly that neither one of them realized it until it was too late. Peeta spun around, feigning slipping against the sandy bottom of the pond, in an attempt to pull Katniss's body as close to his as possible. His foot landed on something cool and smooth and very much alive and the pain he felt immediately afterward on his calf was so intense that he couldn't bear it.

He cried out desperately and sunk into the water, clutching his injured calf.

"Peeta. What the hell?" She hoisted him onto the shore and studied the bleeding wound. "Aww, Christ." She sighed, stripped off her tank top, and ripped the bottom seam off. Katniss worked quickly, tying the strip of cotton around his left leg just below the knee.

He panted for breath, scared of the swelling that was already setting into his calf. "Am I dying?"

She shook her head and drops of water dripped from her braid onto his chest. "Not yet. But that was a rattler that got you and I can see puncture marks from the fangs so I'm gonna have to suck out the venom." She lowered her mouth to his leg and he thrust a hand between his skin and her mouth.

"You can't. Just take me to the hospital. I'm sure it'll be fine until…" The world inverted around him and he fell back against the sand. "A rattlesnake? Really?"

"Do you want to lose your leg?" She motioned to the taut red skin and pulled a pocket knife from her backpack.

He found himself unable to form words, but he shook his head.

"All right. Then let me suck the damn venom out." She wiped the pocket knife of the remains of her tank top. "Look, this is gonna hurt like a motherfucker. So if you need to scream or cuss or whatever, just do it. I ain't easily offended."

She lowered the knife to his leg and made two tiny incisions, further opening the fang wounds before she lowered her mouth to his skin and drew him in.

Peeta was too tired to stop her, in too much pain to even realize that the gray-eyed girl that haunted his dreams had her mouth on his body. All he saw was the endlessly blue Louisiana sky above him. And then nothing else but blackness.

* * *

He fell in and out of consciousness for the remainder of the day, remembering the bright white lights of the hospital and the sound of his mother's voice yelling in his ear, wondering why in god's name he was in a pond when he couldn't even swim, cursing that no-good Cajun trash that lived across the street. The only way he was able to differentiate between his reality and his medicine-coated dreams was the shiny outline that hazed what was unreal.

When he woke in the middle of the night, Katniss was perched on his windowsill, her knees pulled into her chest. She wasn't shiny at all, but he refused to let himself think she was real because it was just like every other dream he'd ever had about her.

"How're you feeling?" She stood up and gently sat on the edge of his bed.

"Oh, just swell." He smiled at her. "Better now that you're here." He was vaguely aware that the medicine was probably making him say some stupid things he'd regret in the morning, but if this was truly a dream like he suspected, what did it matter?

She smiled softly. "I'm sorry I got you snake bit."

He shrugged. "I ain't dying. At least not any time soon. The doctor said what you did was real dumb, sucking the venom out like that. Where'd you learn that anyway?"

She blushed and fiddled with the end of her braid. "I dunno. It's just something that we've always been told. I guess it didn't fuck you up too bad."

He could tell that he'd offended her, so he decided to ask her about the one thing he could tell she loved to talk about.

"What happened to your dad? I mean, I know he died."

"He fell off the boat one day…" Katniss sucked in a deep breath. "Trying to clear some cane that was blocking the water. He fell under it. They couldn't get him out."

"That's awful." In that moment he was grateful that his father was only on the other side of the city. At least he had the option of seeing him again one day.

She grabbed his wrist and traced the white scar on his palm. "What happened here?"

He jerked his arm away from her. "Surgery. I broke my wrist when I was a kid." He could tell be her expression that she didn't quite believe him, but she didn't press the issue and he heaved a sigh of relief.

The silence between them quickly grew heavy and uncomfortable. Peeta shifted his weight and sat up in his bed. "So, it's just you and your mom now?"

"And my little sister. Primrose. She's twelve and I love her more than just about anything. She's perfect." She snorted. "But my mom might as well not even be around. She doesn't talk to anyone, not even Prim. It's like… Like I'm the only one who still knows she's around. I hate that for her. She's a sweet kid, you know? She deserves more."

He was surprised at her willingness to share so much about her life with him. While he had her on a roll, he decided to take an even bigger risk.

"Who's Gale Hawthorne?"

She sighed. "My asshole of an ex-hunting partner."

"And boyfriend?"

"Jesus, no. I mean, we fucked, but that's because there's nothing else to do when it's not alligator season. That bastard told me he loved me." She stood up quickly, as if she had just realized that she had shared entirely too much information with him.

"I should go. You need to sleep." She turned quickly, but he was able to catch the tail of her braid and he tugged gently. She complied with the tug and settled back on the edge of his bed.

"Don't. Don't leave." He cupped her chin in his hands and she studied him for a moment before she swung a long leg over his lap, settled against his chest, and tentatively touched her lips to his.

She tasted like pine needles and smoke and a summer sunset as she kissed him long and hot and hard, just like in every dream.

He accidentally nipped her lip a little too hard and he withdrew as the taste of her blood filled his mouth.

"God, Katniss, I'm so sorry."

Katniss shook her head and pulled him back to her hungrily. "Don't you see? We're one now. We've shared each other's blood."

When the sharp, coppery taste invaded his mouth again, he relished it.

* * *

It was a week before Peeta felt well enough to resume his duties at the Pik-n-Quik and even then he was grateful for the stool that meant he could sit in between customers. The swelling had subsided after a few days, but the pain was still very real, and not even his nightly dose of Katniss's tongue and lips and teeth could cure that ache.

They were practically inseparable after the first night she snuck into his window. She always waited for him outside the Pik-n-Quik, leaning against the doorframe or the counter just enough so he could admire the curves and swoops of her body.

A week after their first kiss, she let him touch her _there_.

The night after that, she knelt before him and gave him the best head of his life.

He ached for her in the daytime when she was out on the bayou, scrambling to catch enough alligators to fill the rest of Haymitch's tags.

Luckily, Finnick's shrimp boat had been recalled due to a hurricane brewing far off the coast, so he was able to assist Katniss bring in the monstrous lizards Haymitch so desired. They finished a week and a half before the official end of the season and Haymitch was so pleased with their haul—and, though he'd never admit it to anyone, that they had beat Gale Hawthorne—that he threw a crawfish boil at the Pik-n-Quik the day Katniss and Finnick filled the last tag with a massive twelve-and-a-half-foot gator.

Peeta hung back against the outside wall of the store, watching Katniss as she twirled around to the boisterous zydeco music that echoed through the streets from Haymitch's ragtag band. The security lights cast an orange glow on her dark hair and Peeta honestly couldn't remember seeing anything more beautiful.

He still wasn't sure exactly what their relationship was. She had spent every night since the accident in his bed, but all they ever did was kiss and she always left before he woke the next morning. And he didn't even want to imagine what his mother would make of the entire situation. He barely saw her anymore, between his job and spending an ever-increasing amount of time with Katniss. Not that he minded. Katniss was just as attached to him as his mother was, but it was because she truly cared for him, wanted to be with him. All his mother wanted was to keep him away from his father.

The music died as Haymitch's band stopped for a beer break and Katniss stumbled over to where Peeta stood by the wall. She pressed her body into him and hooked her leg around his knee. Her face was coated with a thin sheen of sweat and her eyes were bright with the moonlight.

"Come on." She rose onto her tiptoes and brushed her lips against his. "I wanna show you something."

She tugged his hand gently and he followed her away from the noise and lights of the party. The full moon hung low in the sky and provided them with much needed light as they made their way through the thick woods toward the swamp.

It took longer than he imagined it would have because his leg slowed him down, but she didn't seem to mind the extra time. She kept urging him forward, quiet giggles fading into the soft murmur of the wind through the leaves and the drone of the cicadas that surrounded them.

They passed through a copse of trees and Peeta found himself in what might have been the most beautiful place he'd ever seen. A huge moss-covered rock jutted out over the bayou and he could just make out the lights of Baton Rouge in the distance.

He gasped and Katniss turned to him, running her hands against the smooth plane of his stomach under his shirt. She captured his mouth with hers and nipped gently at his bottom lip until he allowed her tongue to probe gently against his.

She pulled away suddenly and he felt entirely too empty without her warmth against him. She sat down on the soft moss and patted the spot next to her.

"This is my favorite place in the world."

He joined her and clasped her hand in his.

"My dad used to bring me out here and teach me about the different plants and animals that live on the bayou." She sighed heavily and a frog croaked softly somewhere on the water. "I miss him so much. You're the only person I've ever brought out here."

Peeta brought her hand to his lips and kissed it gently. "Thank you for sharing this part of him with me."

She pulled her hand from his grasp and stroked his cheek gently, before she brought her lips back to his and settled herself on his lap.

He grasped her hips and groaned into her mouth as she rocked her pelvis on top of his arousal.

Katniss tore her mouth from his and stripped the green tank top from her chest. "Touch me."

The white of her bra stood out sharply against her tanned skin and he lost himself in the moment. He palmed her small breasts gently and his cock twitched as her nipples hardened beneath the thin fabric of her bra. Operating on pure instinct, he gently squeezed his hands around her and then latched his mouth onto one of the peaks. He thought he might come just from the way she moaned and arched into him.

Her fingers tangled in his soft curls and she held his mouth to her chest. He teased her nipples for what felt like forever and simultaneously no time at all. Finally, when he felt like he might actually burst from his need to feel more and more of her, she said it.

"I want you inside me. _Now._" She shoved him back against the moss of the rock and unclasped her bra with one hand while she caressed his chest underneath his red t-shirt.

"I don't have…" His breath caught in his throat at the sight of dark, erect nipples and she rolled off him just long enough to shimmy out of her shorts and underwear.

She shrugged. "Don't worry about it."

He ripped his shirt from his shoulders and pushed his cargo shorts down and off his ankles quickly.

Katniss draped her arms around his shoulders and worked soft kisses onto his neckline as she resumed her place on his lap. She reached between his legs and he gasped.

"Wait!"

She looked up at him with darkened, lustful eyes.

"I haven't… Well, I mean… You…"

She grinned and nipped at his lip. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle with you."

Peeta eased himself down on the rock and tried to concentrate on anything but the dripping heat he felt at the tip of his dick. He anchored his hands on her hips because that seemed like the most logical thing to do.

Her hand grasped him firmly and he moaned loudly as he felt himself slide into her warm center.

She leaned forward on him and kissed him deeply before she started to roll her pelvis over his in slow gyrating circles.

He knew this wasn't fair to her. There was no way he was going to last long enough to bring her to fruition. She was just so tight and warm around his length and this was better than he could have ever dreamed. He'd been inside her for less than a minute and he already felt the tension gathering in his belly.

Then she shifted just slightly and angled her pelvis away from him in a way that made her feel, oh Christ, even _tighter _and the little O shape her mouth made as she pressed her palms against his chest for leverage was too much.

He groaned and dug his fingernails into her thighs as stars burst behind his eyelids and he emptied himself inside of her.

Katniss grinned and stilled as his body jerked through the remainder of his orgasm. She peeled herself off him and laid flat on her back beside him on the rock as he struggled to catch his breath.

"I love you." It was crazy, he knew that, to think he could possibly be in love with someone he'd known for barely a week, but the words fell from his lips before he could stop them.

She laughed beside him and he interpreted that as a good sign.

* * *

He was pleased with himself. It had been almost two weeks since he'd lost his virginity to Katniss on the moss-covered rock in the forest and his stamina had already grown immensely. More often than not, she finished before he did and one glorious night, after some particularly intense foreplay, she tightened her grip on his shoulders and her eyelids fluttered shut in ecstasy _twice_ before he moaned her name at his climax.

His mother was less than thrilled with the amount of time he spent with her. Now that Haymitch's tags were filled, Peeta and Katniss often took the boat out on the bayou and just floated around until Peeta had to report for work or they felt like coming back to shore.

So Peeta was shocked when his mother approached him one Friday morning as he practically ran to the front door and across the street to the vine-covered house he was so in love with.

"I think Katniss should come for dinner this evening."

He paused and turned slowly to look at his mother.

She shrugged. "If you're going to be spending all your time with her, I feel like I'm obligated to at least meet the girl."

"Okay. But you have to be nice to her." He narrowed his eyes at her. "Seriously, Mama. I love her."

He chose to ignore that she rolled her eyes and tousled his hair as she brushed past him and out the door.

"I'll be home around seven."

* * *

Katniss adamantly refused to dress in anything other than her usual denim cutoffs and tank top, even though Peeta pleaded with her to at least wear jeans. She did, however, brush and rebraid her hair and apply the tiniest bit of perfume to her wrists and the sensitive hollow just behind her earlobes.

She crossed the street at a quarter to seven, just as his mother pulled into the driveway.

"Ahh, you must be Katniss!"

She forced a smile. "Good evening, ma'am."

Peeta opened the door and surveyed the scene in front of him. Katniss was smiling, albeit uncomfortably, and his mother grinned wickedly. This couldn't be good.

He cleared his throat. "Come in. I just finished dinner."

Katniss followed his mother into the house and took her seat at the table next to Peeta.

He found her hand under the table and gave it a gentle squeeze. He knew she was nervous about this evening and he wanted to do everything in his power to make her feel comfortable.

"Well, Peeta, you certainly seemed to have outdone yourself." His mother speared a piece of lettuce with her fork a little too strongly. She chewed for a moment, swallowed, and then turned to Katniss. "He's a wonderful cook. Do you cook at all, Katniss?"

She shook her dark head and blushed. "No, ma'am. Well, I mean, I can grill. Rabbits and gator and what not. But that's about it."

His mother nodded. "Gator. Now that is one thing I can say I have never tried."

Katniss's eyes lit up. "Oh, I got a good one in the freezer. I can grill it up for us this weekend if you'd like."

The older woman smiled coolly. "Well, isn't that just too precious of you to offer."

Peeta stiffened beside Katniss and turned his attention to his salad. He couldn't really say anything. His mother wasn't being outwardly hateful to Katniss, but her voice dripped of sarcasm and he knew Katniss was too nervous to notice.

He collected their salad dishes quietly and brought out the main course—meatloaf with heaps of mashed potatoes, buttered corn, and green beans. Meatloaf was one of Katniss's favorite meals and one she had specifically requested when she agreed to come to dinner. He wasn't particularly fond of it himself, but he was quickly realizing that he'd do just about anything to see her smile.

His mother and Katniss exchanged small talk for the remainder of the meal—she wanted to know all about alligator hunting and Katniss's family and the conditions of the high school athletics program. If Peeta hadn't known better, he would have thought his mother was actively showing an interest in his future in Chamboux. But something was amiss. He watched his mother sip her wine and waited for the other shoe to drop.

"Your accent's very interesting, dear. Were you born in these parts?"

Katniss nodded. "Yes. My mother was from the city but my father was born and raised on the bayou. He was as Cajun as they come. That's where my coloring and the accent you're picking up on come from. It ain't much, but it's there just the same."

His mother nodded a few times and downed the rest of the dark wine in her glass. "Well, it was lovely meeting you. I think I'm going to turn in early tonight." She stood up from the table and kissed Peeta's cheek lovingly as she passed by. "Wonderful dinner, son. Don't keep Miss Everdeen out too late."

"I won't, Mama."

She smiled one last time at Katniss. "Don't be a stranger."

Katniss grinned, a genuine smile that crinkled the corners of her eyes.

Peeta offered her his arm. "Can I walk you home?"

* * *

Following his mother's orders seemed like the only thing to do after such a surprising evening. So Peeta walked Katniss across the street and planted a chaste kiss on her forehead before bidding her goodnight and telling her he'd see her tomorrow. It was highly probable that she would shimmy up the drainpipe and into his window later that evening, but he figured it was the thought that counted.

After returning home, he rinsed the dinner dishes and placed them into the dishwasher before climbing the stairs. He opened his bedroom door and was shocked to see his mother sitting on his bed, one of his father's long leather belts in her hands.

"Mama…" He shook his head desperately. "I thought you liked her."

She snorted. "Cajun trash. That's all she is. Scraping by from living off the swamp. Eating alligator! What diseases has she contracted? And how convenient it is that we happen to be the first family to move in and she's infatuated with you. She's using you, son. Wake up!"

"No. She loves me. And I love her. And we're happy."

His mother stood up and motioned to his bed. "Lie down. You know what I have to do."

"No." Peeta stood his ground, unwilling to let her ruin what had been a practically perfect evening.

"Son." She took a step toward him and raised her hand as if to hit him.

He flinched out of habit, but she stopped short and laughed.

"Don't fight me." She grabbed his wrist and traced the scar lightly. "Remember what happened the last time you tried."

"Mama, please." But he was already moving toward the bed. He lay on his stomach and awaited the blows from the belt.

"You can't ever see her again, son. I won't allow it."

As she whipped him, he thought of Katniss and the way her dark hair fanned out in the water, the way her breath quickened right before she shuddered and tightened around him, and the way her hands felt when they caressed his back, which now burned with his mother's anger.

* * *

He was beyond crying. It never did any good anyway. He clutched his pillow to his chest and waited desperately for Katniss's lithe form to crawl through his window. She finally arrived just after midnight.

He loved her even more then because she immediately knew something was wrong.

She knelt beside him, gently pulled his t-shirt from his inflamed skin, and took stock of his injuries. "Oh my god. Did your mother do this to you?"

He nodded and was embarrassed as a tear slid down his cheek. "Yep."

"Because of me?" Her eyebrows knit together. "Because she actually hates me? Thinks I'm swamp trash? It's okay, everyone else in this godforsaken town does."

Peeta touched her cheek gently. "I don't." He pulled her head down to his mouth and planted gentle kisses on her forehead. "She doesn't want me to see you anymore but fuck her. I'll be eighteen in April. Then she has no say in what I do."

Katniss glanced up at him, her eyes lighting up as an idea formed itself in her mind. She crawled into his bed and lay next to him, careful not to exacerbate the red welts on his back.

"What?"

"What if there was a way you could get rid of her now? Would you do it?" She bit her lip.

He scoffed. "What like kill her?"

She chewed on her thumbnail. "Would you do it?"

"You want me to kill my mother?" He sat up suddenly, shocked at what she was suggesting. He waited for her to crack a smile and playfully shove him, letting him know it was all a joke.

But instead she knelt behind him on his bed, helped him out of his t-shirt, and lightly traced the outline of the belt marks on his back. "She beats you." She pressed her lips between his shoulder blades.

"She makes you feel like nothing you do is ever good enough." Her tongue teased the middle of his neck and dipped into his left ear.

She shimmied around his waist and knelt on the floor in front of him, before exhaling slowly onto his bellybutton and gripping him through his jeans.

"Why shouldn't you kill her? You don't owe her anything." Her fingers fumbled with the button of his pants. "In fact, even if you got caught you could very easily say it was self-defense, especially if I'm there to back up your story." She tugged at his zipper and looked up at him with her wide gray eyes.

He swallowed thickly as she unbuttoned his boxers and freed his growing length.

"Then she can't get between us anymore." She took the very tip of him into her mouth and swirled her tongue around once, teasing him. "We could be together forever, _bebe_. Just me and you." She took his entire length into her mouth and he groaned as he gripped her head to control her movement.

She pulled up and winked at him. "Just think about it."

He nodded but all he could focus on was her mouth that surrounded him entirely and how he'd do just about anything to make sure it never stopped.

* * *

Peeta worked a morning shift at the Pik-n-Quik the day they killed his mother. Katniss met him when he got off at two, her long body leaning against the ice cooler in front of the store until he swept her up in his arms and trailed kisses down her neck and across her chest.

They'd decided to go with rat poison. It was cheap, readily available to them from the Pik-n-Quik, and it would do its job quickly.

Peeta prepared a feast fit for a king that night. He and Katniss ate early, gorging themselves on fried chicken dripping with grease and mashed potatoes swimming in gravy until they were full to bursting. Then Peeta crushed the granules and stirred them into the thick white gravy that he spooned onto his mother's helping of mashed potatoes.

Katniss watched him with a grin, biting her lip from time to time and when he finally took her by the hand and led her upstairs, she pinned him against his bedroom door.

"Fuck me slow, Peeta. I wanna feel you for as long as I can."

He pressed his mouth onto her neck and elicited a soft moan from her.

Blood rushed through his head so quickly that he almost missed her whisper.

"This is the start of the rest of our lives."

He was so lost in Katniss for the rest of the evening that he didn't have time to think about his mother ingesting an entire box of rat poison for dinner.

* * *

They didn't venture back downstairs until well after sunset. Even with Katniss's warnings and the research they had done over the poison, Peeta couldn't have been prepared for what he saw. His mother was slumped over the kitchen table, blood dripping from her nose and mouth. Her eyes stared blankly ahead.

They'd done it. They'd actually killed her. He gagged and grasped onto Katniss for support as the room tilted violently around him.

"Holy shit." He breathed heavily through his mouth because the smell of the blood filled the room and made his head spin ever faster.

"Hey." She smoothed his hair over his forehead. "It's okay."

"How can you say that it's fucking okay, Katniss? We just killed my mother!" His breath now came in quick bursts and he felt like he might actually pass out.

She scoffed. "Your mother who consistently beats you. You think I believed your bullshit story about your wrist surgery? I know she had something to do with that and I won't apologize to you for killing that bitch." Her gray eyes darkened until they were the color of a Louisiana sky during a summer storm.

That, oddly enough, calmed him down.

"_Bebe._" She kissed his forehead. "_Cher._" She planted her lips on his and kissed him hard, the way she knew he liked best.

His hands snaked up her back and gripped the back of her neck tightly.

He ripped his mouth from hers. "She's really gone."

"Mmhmm." She grinned widely. "It's just you and me now. Forever."

Peeta stared at his mother's body. "What are we gonna do with it?"

"We'll get rid of it. I've got a plan. Then we'll come back and clean up and you can fuck me as hard as you want and everything will be okay."

Katniss kissed his temple lightly and adjourned to the backyard to collect the tarp in which they would roll the body.

She unfurled it on the dining room floor and nodded to him. "It's time."

Peeta nodded and brushed a hand over his mother's dark red hair. He bent to her and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry, Mama."

Together, they hoisted the body from its resting place and rolled it carefully in the blue tarp. Then Peeta swung the load over his shoulder and the two set out across the dark street.

"I guess it's a good thing Effie sucks at selling houses," Katniss joked in an attempt to lighten his mood. But he could smell his mother's blood through the tarp and he was afraid that he would vomit if he opened his mouth.

Katniss led him through the dark woods to the dock where she kept her hunting boat. He tossed the tarp into the floor of the boat and climbed in behind her.

"Are you sure we won't get caught?"

She nodded, cupped his chin in her hands, and kissed him lightly. "Trust me."

They took off across the bayou, further out than Peeta had ever been before, and he knew instantly where they were heading. "We're dumping her on Gale's land?"

"That's right." She killed the engine and studied the surface of the water, waiting for something, but he wasn't sure for what.

"Katniss…"

"Shh!" She hissed and pointed to a small ripple in the water about a hundred yards away from them. Slowly, silently, she turned to him. "Now or never, _cher._"

She joined him at the edge of the tarp and together they shoved the body off the boat and into the dark water. It hit with a much too loud splash and Peeta was sure they were about to be discovered.

"Katniss, it's not sinking." His stomach lurched as he watched the tarp bob.

"It don't have to." Katniss tore open a bag of marshmallows and tossed them into the water next to where the tarp-wrapped body floated eerily.

He wrinkled his forehead in confusion. "Marshmallows?"

"Oh, yeah." She grinned. "Gators love marshmallows."

* * *

He made all the appropriate calls the next morning after he "discovered" the note that Katniss had forged, which claimed that his mother had abandoned him in the dead of night. He acted aloof and scared when the police questioned him. No, he couldn't imagine how she would have left without her car, but now that he thought about it, she _had _been talking on the phone an awful lot with her much older married boss. Maybe he knew something?

Katniss stroked his arm and rested her head on his shoulder during the entire interview and escorted him down to the sheriff's office where he filed his official statement and the missing person's report.

But he openly sobbed when his father called him and told him to come back home if he wanted.

Katniss's eyes narrowed as she watched the scene play out before her and she slipped through the front door before he'd hung up with his father.

* * *

Effie Trinket stopped by a week after his mother disappeared. He showed her in and offered her a glass of sweet tea, which she accepted gratefully. She took a seat at the kitchen table and ran her hands over a dark stain that had shown up the same night his mother went missing.

"How are you holding up, dear?"

He shrugged. "As well as can be expected I suppose."

Effie took a long sip of her beverage. "Well, I suppose you'll be moving back in with your father soon?"

"That's still to be determined, Ms. Trinket."

She forced a grin and laughed. "Of course! Of course, don't feel like I'm forcing you out or anything. It's just that, spaces in this neighborhood are filling quickly and—"

Peeta slammed his fist on the counter. "You've sold one house, Effie. This one. Now, I don't know what's gonna happen to me yet, but I do know that you couldn't resell this house right now if you tried. So do me a favor and stop bullshitting me, all right?"

Effie widened her eyes at him and patted her hair gently. "Well. If it weren't for your girlfriend and her ridiculous mother refusing to give up that house, homes in this neighborhood _would _be selling."

"Leave Katniss out of this."

She waved a hand at him. "Give it up, boy. That girl hasn't been in her right mind since her daddy died all those years ago. Then when her poor sister was taken because Katniss couldn't be bothered to stop screwing around with the oldest Hawthorne boy… Well, that right there should just prove to you what comes from getting too involved with hunters."

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Wait. Katniss had a sister die too?"

Effie nodded. "Poor Primrose. She was a real beauty. Inherited none of their father's Cajun blood, thank the lord."

Peeta felt nauseated. "How did she die?"

"She was hit by a car." Effie studied him carefully. "Katniss hasn't told you this?"

"Yeah!" he said, a little too quickly. "Yeah, of course. I just… You know, wanted some outside perspective."

She smiled. Gossiping, especially about the Everdeens was Effie's third favorite thing to do, behind having her hair done and selling houses for exorbitant prices. "Well." She sipped her tea. "Katniss was supposed to meet Prim at the school on Saturday after a livestock show—Primrose raised goats. Apparently, she was too busy messing around with Gale Hawthorne out on the bayou that she completely lost track of time. Primrose started walking home by herself and was hit by a car."

Effie sighed dramatically. "Tragic."

"When was this?"

"Let me think…" She tapped her lips with her pointer finger. "Two years ago in September. I remember because school had just started back up."

He grasped the back of the chair. "And you're sure she died?"

She nodded slowly. "Certain. She died before they even got her to the hospital. Massive internal injuries."

"Jesus Christ…"

"But of course you already knew all that."

Peeta yanked the glass away from her. "You have to go, Effie."

"Well, I never!"

He pulled her out of the chair and pushed her to the front door, shoving her purse into her chest. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything about the house, okay?"

"Peeta?" She banged on the heavy door after he slammed it in her face. "Peeta! Be careful with that one! She's nothing but trouble."

On the other side of the door, he ran a hand through his curls. He was beginning to think she might be right.

* * *

After both Haymitch and Finnick had confirmed Effie's story, Peeta wasn't quite sure how to react. He knew that sometimes grief caused people to do some pretty odd things, but this was something completely different. It was dangerous. It was problematic. And yet, he wasn't quite ready to believe everything that the somewhat crazed residents of Renard Parish had to say about his one true love.

He decided to take matters into his own hands. He took his mother's car into Baton Rouge the day after Effie's visit and headed straight to the library. He'd never actually used microfiche before, but he knew the general way that it worked and with some assistance from the ancient librarian who insisted her call her Mags, he pulled every copy of the _Parish Times_ from September of two years ago. It took him almost twenty minutes of combing through page after page on the microfiche machine, but finally. There. There it was, nestled in the bottom left corner of the back page of the paper. "Area girl struck and killed by car."

He skimmed the article, which detailed that twelve-year-old Primrose Everdeen had been walking home from school on a Saturday afternoon after showing her goat in a livestock auction. She was killed instantaneously when she the SUV driven by forty-five-year-old Baton Rouge resident, Alma Coin, struck her head-on.

Peeta exhaled sharply and pressed his hand to his mouth to keep from vomiting.

There was no way Katniss could explain her way out of this one.

* * *

He returned home late in the afternoon and waited until almost sunset to venture across the street. She had to know. Certainly, she was just suppressing the memories of her beloved sister's death. She couldn't actually think that Primrose was still alive could she?

He had to talk to her, had to get the story in her own words. He had to try to understand how grief could drive someone to their breaking point as it had obviously done to Katniss.

Peeta took in a deep breath as he rapped on the weathered screen door.

She answered the door and smiled. "Well, ain't this a nice surprise. I thought you were in Baton Rouge all night."

"I came back early." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "Can I come in?"

"Why don't I come out? We can go to your house and—" She tried to push past him onto the porch, but he spun around her and stepped into the living room.

He'd never been in her house before. It was dingy and dusty, the furniture old and tattered. They had electricity, as evidenced by the low hum of the air conditioner, but candles burned all around the room, painting the walls with eerie shadows.

She followed him inside and threw up her hands angrily. "Okay. What the hell?"

He turned to her. "I wanted to meet your sister. You talk about her so much and since we're gonna be together forever, I thought it was about time. She upstairs?" He started toward the rickety staircase.

She lunged for his arm desperately. "Don't. Mama's up there sleeping. I'll get her. She's in the parlor."

Katniss left him standing in the living room. She returned a few minutes later, but, much like he suspected, she was alone.

"Prim, this is Peeta. Peeta, this is my sister, Primrose." She motioned to the air beside her and watched him for a reaction.

Peeta narrowed his eyes and crossed the floor to her. "Katniss… Baby, there's no one there."

She shrugged. "What are you talking about? It's Prim. She's standing right here." Katniss held out her hands to the side. "Say something Prim."

He grabbed her face in his hands. "There's no one there, _chère_. Listen to me. Prim is dead. She was hit by a car two years ago. Surely you remember that." He withdrew the copied newspaper article from his pocket and showed it to her.

Katniss yanked the paper from his hands and read the article. "Why would you do this? Why would you fake something about my sister dying?" She laughed at first but then she turned to the empty space beside her and her face fell. "You're crazy. What did you do with her?"

He shook his head. "I didn't do anything, Katniss. Listen. I think you're sick. And I think you need help and I wanna be the one who helps you, okay, but you gotta listen to me—"

She flung his arms off her shoulders and screamed. "Where is my sister?" She crossed the short distance to the kitchen and retrieved a long butcher knife from the drawer.

"Where is she?" Tears streamed down her face as she waved the knife at him. "Tell me where she is right now, Peeta, or I swear to God I'll…"

He held up his hands and backed away from her slowly. "It's okay. Everything's gonna be okay."

She pursed her lips. "You're going back to your daddy, ain't you? That's why you were in Baton Rouge. You're gonna leave me here, just like my daddy and Gale and now Prim. Why did you scare her away? She was just here!" Katniss flailed the knife around wildly, accenting her words.

Peeta wanted to rush to her and hold her in his arms until she understood. He loved her so much and he hated seeing her like this. She was close to the breaking point, he could tell. He just had to convince her to let him help her.

"Baby… Put down the knife and let's talk about this."

She took a long shuddering breath and her tears ceased suddenly. She looked straight up at him.

"I ain't letting you leave me like everybody else does."

He fell backwards as she crashed into him and pinned him down with her knees.

Peeta stared up into the huge gray eyes that had haunted his dreams for so long. "_Bebe… Chère… _Please…"

Her eyes, brimming with tears, were the last thing he saw.

* * *

"We can just be grateful this heat finally broke!" Effie waved the young couple into the first house on Capitol Street. "It was sweltering in here the first time I showed this house."

The woman and her husband laughed at Effie's excitement at the high ceilings and oohed at all the right times when she pointed out the marble countertops and stainless steel appliances.

"So what are you thinking?" she asked merrily as she concluded the tour and closed the heavy wooden door behind her.

The woman sighed. "I was wondering how anyone could possibly give up such a wonderful place."

Effie smiled sadly. "It's a tragic story. The woman who bought this house disappeared. Left her son in the dead of night to run off with her _married_ boss. They found what was left of her up the bayou a couple miles. _Gators,_"she tacked on with a whisper.

"And the boy?" the husband supplied.

Effie cast a mournful glance across the street to the ivy-covered Everdeen farmhouse. "Dead. He and his girlfriend both. The police think it was some kind of suicide pact they made." She pointed across the road. "They found them both in the living room floor. Their wrists slashed wide open."

The woman gasped and turned into her husband's chest.

"But I can assure you," Effie smiled. "That house will be gone by Easter."

She cast one last forlorn glance across the road and blinked furiously.

Because the old swing on the rickety porch was moving gently, propelled by the boy's feet as the girl curled her body into his.

* * *

Prim bound through the door, the screen door slamming closed behind her.

"Hey!" Katniss barely raised her head. "Don't go too far."

"I won't!" Prim waved over her shoulder to them and Katniss returned her head to its favorite resting place on Peeta's shoulder.

He kissed Katniss's eyelids softly as he rocked them back and forth in the porch swing. "I'm glad you talked me into staying. And that you stayed here with me."

She sighed against his chest. "It's you and me, _cher_. Together forever."

* * *

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